Buttercup's Baby
by Buttercup3
Summary: Well, after a LOT of work, here it is. And yes, it still needs more work because I am unable to write romance. But oh well.
1. Runaway

Part I  
  
Runaway  
  
I practically flew from the house.  
"Lonara!" I shouted. "Lonara, where are you? Lonara!" I slumped against a tree, tears streaming down my face. "Lonara," I whispered.  
I had only just discovered that my little darling was missing. I had taken her out to pick berries (and to give her the sword lessons that Nechtè had forbidden her till she was at least eight). We had been walking home, me scanning the trees for birds, Lonara happily plunking berries from her pail into her mouth. After a while I had stopped checking to see if she was behind me. I had reached our house, started inside.and noticed that Lonara was not behind me.  
"Nechtè!" I called, my voice shaking. "Nechtè, Lonara is missing!" My husband ran outside. He was fair haired and had emerald eyes, and was, as always, carrying his staff.  
"What?!" He demanded. "Missing? Where did you last see her?"  
"In the forest, back there a little ways." I pointed with a trembling hand.  
"Why isn't she with you? Didn't you watch her?"  
"I did at first, but after a while there wasn't much of a point. She wasn't lagging behind, and I was looking for birds."  
"Doesn't she know better than to wander off in the forest alone? Didn't you teach her how dangerous the forest is? That it is enchanted and roamed by fearsome beasts? Our magical glade ends a mere mile out! You know that Air and the Queen have no power in Earth's domain, and he was upset enough about the magic glade that he won't interfere with his minions!" Nechtè glared at me.  
"You're her father; why didn't you teach her about the need to stay away from Earth."  
"You're her mother, Buttercup!" Nechtè screamed, "You should have taught her!"  
I shrank back from him. "This isn't doing us any good, us arguing about who's fault this is," I said. "We need to find her."  
"Two of us alone in that forest?" Nechtè asked bitterly. "The whole reason we live here is to keep Clemen away. The forest isn't safe."  
"Well, fine!" I snapped. "If you want to leave our daughter in there, don't let me stop you!"  
"How about a compromise?" Nechtè asked. "We bring Gaia. She's Lonara's godmother. She'll help.  
I considered briefly, then nodded. "I'll go get her. You pack food and blankets enough for three, and I'll be back within an hour.  
~~~  
I dodged through the trees and over huge roots. I only traveled the route to the village once a month, and as a result the path was rather overgrown. I winced as thorns lodged in my skin and scratched my legs, but didn't slow.  
The path was long and winding, but the journey took only twenty minutes traveling at a run. I charged through the mud puddles in the village square, ignoring the stares of the children who played in the sun. Finally I reached my friend's house and knocked. My strength gone, I collapsed against the door.  
The door opened, and I tumbled inside with a shriek, falling on the shining floor. About to rise, I suddenly stopped and slumped back. A small dagger was pressed to my throat.  
"Gaia!" I cried. "It's me!"  
The warrior woman stared at me. "Buttercup? Is that you?"  
"Well, who else would be dumb enough to lean against the door after knocking?"  
"That is you!" Gaia sheathed her dagger. "How's Nechtè and the little one?"  
"That's what I came to talk to you about," I panted. "Lonara is missing, and Nechtè says the forest is dangerous. Two warriors will be better than one. Do you want to come?"  
"You even had to ask?" Gaia snorted. "You insult me. Of course I'll come." She began moving around the little cabin, picking up sword, bow, quiver, and other useful things. "Provisions?" she asked.  
"Nechtè is getting some. Blankets, too."  
"Let's go, then," Gaia said, shrugging on an old, weather-stained shirt.the shirt she had worn many years ago as she journeyed with me to Drokal, a runaway and an outcast seeking refuge.  
I looked down at my bright, pretty pink shirt and sighed. "We are getting old, my friend. I would never have worn this before I was married. Too visible. Do you have a more travel worthy garment?"  
~~~  
We soon arrived at my house, panting. More proof that we had slowly begun growing old. I glanced at my sword and, with a sigh, slid the blade into its scabbard. A dagger was sheathed in my sleeve, and another concealed in my boot. A look at Gaia told me that she was outfitting herself similarly out of my spares. Nechtè grabbed at his oaken staff with the blue crystal on the end. Shouldering our packs, we headed off into the forest.  
~~~  
Lonara giggled. She was glad she had snuck away from Mommy. To be out alone in the forest was a child's dream. No oatmeal! Mommy seemed to like oatmeal a lot. She liked to have Lonara eat it even more.  
But what was there to eat? Lonara looked around. She saw mushrooms. Yuck! There would be something good around, surely. Mommy would know.but Mommy wasn't here. Mommy was home, probably making oatmeal.  
Lonara saw a stick. It looked like Mommy's big sword. She grabbed it. It wasn't as good as the little wooden practice sword Mommy made her learn with, or even Daddy's pretty wooden stick. (She had once taken the stick and used it as a practice sword. Somehow Daddy didn't like that.) But it would do. She spun it around.  
"Take that, bush!" She hacked at a bush. To her delight, berries fell under her onslaught. She sat down and popped one in her mouth. That tasted good! But maybe the berries were bad. Mommy told her some berries were poi.pois.bad. This didn't taste bad. But now she was very sleepy. A nice nap wouldn't hurt. She would.just.close her eyes.for a moment.  
As the little girl crumpled to the forest floor, a shadow flitted from one tree to another. Seeing the prone figure, it scurried towards her. It was a man, thin and wasted. He looked at the girl, then at the necklace she wore, which her mother had given her long ago. Seeing the mystic symbols which he as well as Buttercup could read, he began to smile. 


	2. Clemen

Clemen  
  
"Buttercup, the trail ends here." Gaia was at her wits end with her old friend insisting that they had to keep going until they found Lonara. "Your daughter is probably fine. But," she added sharply, "WE won't be if you insist on walking all night. You took the same classes as I did. You know we won't find her at night, and she won't keep going either. We need to take a rest."  
"No!" I insisted.  
"Yes."  
"No!"  
"Let's set up camp."  
"I hate it when you decide to be sensible."  
Gaia sighed. "Yes, but usually that isn't a problem."  
Nechtè rolled his eyes. "If you ladies are quite done."  
I glared at him. "YOU may set up camp next to that berry patch. Don't eat any, they would put you to sleep. Us 'ladies' are going to fence. We wouldn't want to be out of shape for.whatever's out there. Dragons or whatever."  
Without another word we took out our swords. Gaia and I put all our attention into the fight. In doing so, however, we failed to notice a shadowy figure slip into the clearing.  
"Like mother, like daughter." Gaia spun around. There, sitting calmly on a stump, stood Clemen.  
I smiled coldly. "Clemen. I might have known that you would be at the bottom of this."  
Clemen sighed. "So beautiful, yet so cold. You haven't changed, Buttercup."  
Nechtè stepped forward. "What do you want, Clemen?" he growled, ignoring Gaia's warning hiss. "Still jealous? You can't take your revenge on me.I mean us."  
Clemen's smile was colder than ever. "Indeed. You two together are too strong for me to overcome. But tell me, do you know where your daughter is?"  
Gaia inhaled sharply, then regained her composure. I blanched, but continued, "Our daughter is home in bed, of course. The hour is too late for her to join us on our walk."  
"Are you quite sure that she is home?"  
Listening to his voice sent a chill down my spine. Clemen must have kidnapped Lonara!  
Anger and hate coursed through Gaia's veins, making her irrational. "What did you do with her?!" she screamed. "Where is she?"  
"Now Gaia-that is your name, isn't it?-be reasonable. I found a child eating berries. As I watched, she sank onto the moss, asleep. The berries over there, as you have already noticed, generate sleep. I merely took her to my house and gave her a nice place to sleep until I could return her to her mother. And I knew who her mother was, because of the runes on her necklace. No matter what you think of me, you ought to realize that I took the same classes as you and can read the runes. 'Lonara, Buttercup and Nechtè's daughter' is what the runes read. Lonara is quite safe with her mother's old school 'friend'.for now." 


	3. Hostage

Hostage  
  
Lonara woke with a splitting headache. Where was she? She looked around.  
The floor was wooden, as where the walls. She was laying on a comfortable little bed, covered with a blanket. There was no furniture but the bed, and the window was far above her head. She couldn't look out, which made her mad. She strode towards the door. Grabbing the knob, she turned and yanked. The door didn't move.  
She changed her tactic and pushed the door, hard. Nothing happened. Lonara began to cry. She wanted her mother!  
The door creaked. She scrubbed at her eyes hard. She didn't want anyone to know she had been crying! A smiling man walked in, carrying a tray.  
"Lonara, good morning!" he said cheerfully. "Are you hungry?"  
"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously. "How do you know my name? And is that oatmeal?"  
"I'm Clemen. I read your name on the necklace you are wearing. And yes, this is oatmeal." He gave her the tray.  
She sniffed. Yes, oatmeal, but better than normal; this was thick with rare spices like cinnamon and some of those berries she had found in the forest. "Only Mommy and Daddy and their friends can read those runes. The learned at a sool for chosen people, or something like that anyways."  
"That's a 'school.' I went to the same school as they did."  
"Are you their friend?"  
An odd look crossed the man's face. "I cared for Buttercup very much, and Nechtè and I knew each other very well." He added under his breath, "Too well."  
"Mommy never told me 'bout you. She told me about Tom, and Renè, and Noru, and a bad man named Cemen." Realization dawned on the child and she opened her blue eyes wide. "You're Cemen!"  
"Right first guess, Lonara." Hatred, before suppressed, now shone in the man's eyes. "I hated your father.parents, I mean. I tried, a year before you were born, to take my revenge on him. I failed. I will not fail again." He walked out the door, slamming it shut. There was a click. Lonara was, again, trapped.  
~~~  
I clenched my fists hard against my sides. "What do you want?" I asked, gritting my teeth.  
"Oh, nothing too much.when you consider the life of your child is at stake."  
"She asked you what you wanted." Nechtè growled. "Do not make her ask again."  
"Don't threaten me." Clemen ordered softly. "To be truthful, I don't know what I want. Maybe it would be amusing to make one of you walk off a cliff. Maybe I am in the mood to lock you in a small room underground and keep you there till the air runs out. Yes," and his face lit up with pleasure, no doubt imagining some horrid fate for the hapless 'rescuers' to suffer. "Yes, the possibilities are endless. I will deliver the child to.to this warrior when the method of punishment is decided." He glanced scornfully at Gaia, then turned and walked off into the forest.  
"Was he always like this?" Gaia asked.  
"Yes," Nechtè replied, his trembling voice filled with hate. "He was always like this." 


	4. Lonora's Lesson

Lonara's Lesson  
  
Lonara ate her oatmeal. It seemed to be the only thing she could do; and anyway, she was hungry. It was good, with berries and spices to sweeten it. She wished Mommy would learn to make it like this, instead of the nasty, healthy stuff she made.  
Lonara yawned. She was tired again, which was odd. She had, after all, just waken up. Why was she tired so soon?  
"Oh!" Lonara cried out loud. "The berries!" Now she remembered. Mommy had taught her about those berries and how they would make her sleepy. She hadn't paid attention to the lesson. Now she wished she had. She sank back into oblivion.  
~~~  
I glared at the panting Clemen. The beautiful forest scenery couldn't calm me. What I would give to slit his lying throat.  
We arrived at Clemen's little hut, where Lonara lay locked in a room in peaceful slumber. I gazed down at my darling child, then was hurried past by Clemen.  
"Stop," said Clemen. "I shall give the child to.the other warrior." He spoke the word warrior with disgust. Without further ado, he shoved his old school-mates through a hole in wooden floor of the hut, whose trapdoor he swiftly shut and locked.  
~~~  
"Well," Nechtè sighed after trying the trap door, "there seems to be nowhere to go but forward." We turned around.  
Suddenly, a magical flame lit, casting an unearthly glow on the cave without burning air. We were in an underground room which smelled damp and dirty. I spun around and shifted into a fighting stance, sword in hand, as Clemen hadn't seen it as enough of a threat to worry about. Nechtè began to mutter words of magic to summon lightning. But when we caught sight of our adversary, we stopped and stared.  
The girl was thin and dirty, a ragged tunic showing her to be a Crananian noble and a badge with a flame on it marking her as one of the Fire's Own. She was younger than me by about eight years, a young lady of twenty. Her face was delicate and fine-boned, the face of a noblewoman, but her eyes burned with a fierce hatred that ill became a face of such beauty.  
Nechtè stared because he recognized a woman of the Crananian nobility. But I stared for a completely different reason.  
"Sister?"  
~~~  
My sister stared at me with wild, crazy eyes. She obviously didn't recognize me. I felt a pang of regret for the life and family I had left behind in Cranan. My sister had been ten when I left eleven years ago. She had grown up not really knowing me, keeping out of the way of the older sister who came home twice a year and guarded her room with spells that burned the hand. She had been three when I left for the mage school, and besides the holidays she only saw me when I tested her to see if she had magic. She did, and she left for the mage school the year I graduated.and ran away.  
Now I reached out to the sibling I had hardly known and said, "Elaina? Don't you remember me? It's Buttercup." Elaina looked at me, eyes alight with suspicion.  
"Prove it," she said.  
I thought about this odd request. "How?" I asked.  
"What is Mother's other name?"  
Now I understood. It was our family's greatest secret: Mother was an enemy of the slave trade, and she organized the smuggling of slaves to faraway lands. But no slave wanted to answer to a person who bore the name of an old noble family who had helped to bring about the slave trade. So Mother had given herself the name of Naomi Calaway, and that name was famous throughout Cranan. Only her blood kin knew the secret, and thus she was safe.  
"Nao." I began to respond, when Elaina cut me short.  
"Hush, sister! Do you mean to give away the secret to this.man? Tell me in private." She beckoned.  
"No, Elaina, it is fitting that he knows. He is, after all, my husband." Elaina gasped and looked dubiously at Nechtè, as if trying to see in the slightly shabby-looking Nechtè something that she had not seen before. Nettled, I went on, watching my spouse to see his reaction. "Mother is also Naomi Calaway."  
Nechtè stared at me, then at my sister, then back at me. "Oh. That explains a lot. Both about your political beliefs and your refusal to talk about Amarath."  
Elaina looked at me. "Where have you been all these years?" she asked eagerly. "We have had no word of you since you left the kingdom. Oh, I have so much to tell you! Cousin Greta fell down and broke her leg just before her wedding, and it was to be such a grand wedding too! And then Father was suspected of an affair with Madame Lopo, you know, the palace seamstress. It took a whole score of war mages, Madame herself, Mother's threats, and Father's influence to save him from Madame's jealous husband. Then in came about ten inquiry mages who knew spells to prove that something was the truth, and it still took from the time of one full moon to the next to prove that it was NOT Father who had the affair! It was actually Madame's twin sister and some married tailor, and someone saw them and assumed that it was Madame and a customer, and Father had just bought me a new dress that very day. Oh, and." Nechtè sighed and settled down for a long, boring session of gossip.  
~~~  
It took a few hours, but I was finally caught up to the recent news of the kingdom, more or less, and the nice, ordinary talk helped me to ignore my growling stomach.  
"So why are you here?" I asked Elaina. Her face grew grave and shadowed.  
"The Queen wants you and Nechtè home. You are needed in Cranan. You see," she continued to explain, "Prince Noru and the Queen are at war with the Yemenese, and the Drokalians want to ally themselves with us. Ambassadors have been sent to the Crananian court, but no Crananian wants to visit Drokal because of certain.misunderstandings that have taken place concerning the last few ambassadors. The Drokalian emperor remembers you from when you were his mother's bodyguard, and since you're a member of the Crananian nobility, you are an appropriate ambassador. Nechtè could go with you."  
Shocked silence was the only reaction to this statement as the couple tried to imagine war with the formerly friendly Yemenese. Finally Nechtè said, "Before we travel to Cranan, my lady, we need to get out of this place. Shall we try to dig?"  
Elaina walked over to one dirty wall and gestured. A small hole had been started.  
"The result of long hours of work," the girl said dryly. "But then, I only had my hands. I don't suppose you have anything better?" I had a pocketknife, and Nechtè had his staff, but that was all, and we soon found that our hands worked better than either tool.  
I sighed. "Stand back," I ordered. My husband and my sister obeyed. I cast the spell for a sort of magic shovel.  
It was a hard spell, almost impossible for a weak or untrained mage. I, however, was neither weak nor untrained. I began the complex weave of the spells that would eat away the dirt.and in all likelihood my magical strength as well, leaving me exhausted for days unless the Queen Goddess was looking out for her chosen ones and could aid me in the spell.  
All of a sudden the trap door flew open. I blinked at the light that streamed through, so much better than the weak magical light. Clemen stood framed by bright sunlight.  
"How are you doing?" he asked mockingly. "How goes the tunnel digging? Yes, of course I know," he responded to our glares of astonishment. His eyes fastened onto Nechtè. "But then, did you think to hide anything from me? Of course not. You never could hide anything from me, even when we were but boys. Did you think that anything would have changed now.Brother?"  
Nechtè flinched as though he had been slapped. Elaina and I stared at him, realization dawning.  
"Clemen.your brother?" I whispered. Nechtè hung his head in shame.  
"I had hoped no one would ever find out. So did my whole family. Clemen is illegitimate. Mother was furious when she found out about Father and that slave woman, but by then it was too late. The girl died in childbirth, and we were stuck with the shameful child. He was passed as my twin, for we had been born at around the same time. But when we were both to enter the school at the same time, in the same dorm and same classes, I begged Mother to make him not tell anyone that we were brothers. Mother hated him, her husband's son, and she made him refuse to tell his parentage."  
Elaina and I were stunned into silence (an unusual state for us) by this unexpected news. Clemen scowled.  
"Yes, tell them your side, Mummy's little darling. All I ever did was be born, and immediately I was unwelcome in my own father's home. In the end, I wasn't allowed back for the holidays. You turned him against me!" he screamed suddenly at Nechtè. "You made him hate me! He always loved you, his 'real' son, and when he looked at me he winced! He looked at me and he saw my poor dead Mother and the wrong he had done that slut that he was married to, and he winced and looked away! And that is why I kidnapped Renè. I knew that the disappearance of one of your old school friends would bring you out of the woodwork. And it did! I would have done a trade, and then I would have had you, my brother, whom I hated."  
"And so you kidnapped my daughter," Nechtè glared at his half-brother in disgust.  
"So I did, so I did." Clemen grinned in delight. "And now I have a dilemma; how many of my dear, dear relatives do I murder? I suppose I will have to journey all the way to Cranan to kill my father and his wife." With a laugh, he turned to leave. The he turned his head back. "Your daughter is not with that barbaric warrior, of course. Gaia, as you called her, is walking hypnotized back to the village. She will awaken only once she is back in her own cottage, and she will not be able to find her way back here in time to be of any help to anyone." With that Clemen swirled off, leaving the trapdoor to slam shut a mere second before I could force myself up and out.  
Elaina's ball of fire went out, plunging our prison into darkness.  
"What happened?!" I cried.  
"I don't know," Elaina quavered. "Fireball summoning is the very first spell taught to the Chosen of Fire. I have never had it go out before!"  
"Try to bring the flame back," Nechtè said calmly.  
We sat motionless in the dark, hoping that the light would come back. Finally Elaina gasped, "It's no use! Why can't I make flame? Has the Goddess turned from me?"  
"No," hissed a voice, "Fire has not forgotten you. But I am here, and I keep her away."  
"Dark!" I cried in astonishment. "Since when do you defy your sisters and threaten their Own?"  
"Has my oldest sister not informed you? I am at war with my siblings, and I do what I will. And don't bother trying to bring flame anymore, young one. Only Fire herself can chase me from a room, and you alone cannot summon her. Oh, I am sure she would come, but since I was here first it would take two of her Own or her oldest priestess to summon her. And here I only see one little Chosen."  
"There are three Chosen here," I told him.  
"But one Flame. And neither Air nor the Queen can send you fire."  
I ignored him, closed my eyes, and began to pray to my Queen. "My Queen, can you ask your sister Fire to aid us?"  
I listened and heard my Queen's reply, faint and far away. "I am sorry, my daughter, I cannot. Ask Fire yourself. I wish I could help, but you must ask as a mere human, not as one of my Own, because one of the other Great Ones is involved."  
I concentrated my thoughts on Fire. "Great Lady, will you, can you help us?"  
The reply to this prayer was far more audible than the one from my own mistress. "I will and I can, my child. Do not fear. I come." Indeed, I could see as I opened my eyes, the underground room was becoming lighter.  
"Leave, sister! You have no authority here! I was invited by one of my Own, and the ancient laws say quite clearly that you need two of your Own or a senior priestess to enter, let alone make me leave. You have only one Chosen!" Dark was barely civil to his older sister.  
"The ancient laws also cover the current situation. As you are well aware, the Queen's Chosen Buttercup here was originally pledged to me because of her mother being one of mine. I allowed my sister to have her only on the conditions that I receive a replacement, her sister, and that she would also be partially mine, to use when I had no childen in the area. As she is partially mine she gets the benefits of being in my service as well as the responsibilities. And she may, if she wish, call me to her. Leave now, brother, for I do not wish to force you."  
With a howl of anger Dark vanished and ran from the older sister who even showed him kindness when she found him threatening one of her children. Flame waved to him, and now in the light they could see the god and goddess. The lord of darkness was only a face in the shroud of darkness that surrounded him. He could not be more different from his sister, who looked exactly like a normal woman except that she was more beautiful than any mortal could ever be, and her gown, which was cut so low that it was nearly immodest, was all of flames.  
"Hello, my children, and hello, brother's son. Although I suppose it is somewhat naughty of me, I must thank you for allowing me to respond directly to my brother. Usually we must not make war or even match wits with other Great Ones , but the circumstances were such that a little squabble was permissable. I will be entertained by this for as much as a month, for Dark must still come to the Great Hall for Council, war or no war, and there are no rules that say that a victor may not gloat a bit."  
She smiled winningly at Nechtè, but when she caught my instinctive glare in her direction she looked contrite. "I am sorry, daughter, I know that he is yours, and Air is so tiresome about my staying away from his children. I think he dislikes the children I have had by his Own, and even by him. Can't say I blame him. Air and Fire do not mix, as much as one needs the other. I think I'll go borrow one of Earth's children. And if I were you I'd look around. Escape is not such a remote possibility as you seem to think."  
She vanished, but a ball of flame remained. It was an interesting light, as it kept changing colors, sometimes being two or even three colors at the same time. Later my Mistress told me that it amused her sister to see how many things she could concentrate on at the same time.  
I began to ponder the last words of the goddess. I had nearly given up on ever discovering the meaning when I suddenly got it. I let out a gasp. "Oh! We are all so stupid. Let's see if the trapdoor is spelled!"  
Nechtè tried a standard spell of opening, one that any mage, no matter their area of expertise, could manage. The trapdoor pulsed with a light as bright as the sun and a jet of flame that none of us created attacked it (Lady Flame was obvoiusly still looking out for us), but nothing else happened. It was magically protected.  
A screech of rage burned my throat, and I threw myself for the miserable piece of wood, drawing my sword and crying out to the Queen. The sword was spelled to be sharp and to cut through spelled substances. The trapdoor stood up to my first onslaught, much to my dismay. But my determination kept me hacking at the wood, using my precious sword like an axe.  
After nearly a half-hour of blindly attacking the door with only a tiny pile of woodchips to show for it, Nechtè stepped forward and said, "Rest a moment, Buttercup. Here, I'll take your sword. Go talk with your sister." I slouched sullenly over to Elaina, and we chatted. I discovered that she was engaged to be married to a rather wealthy young baron. Fortunatly it was a love match, not an arranged marriage. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.  
"Give me back my sword!" Without waiting for an answer, I snatched up my sword and began hacking again, my strength greatly restored after my brief rest. To my surprise, chips of wood began to drop on the floor before my feet! I stared over at Nechtè and saw him grinning at me. He had enchanted the sword! I grinned back and resumed my attack, thanking Air with my thoughts.  
More than an hour later, the pile before my feet had become enormous, and the job was nearly done. With a smile I pushed myself up through the hole.  
I looked around, clasping my sword, as Nechtè and Elaina hoisted themselves through the trapdoor. Clemen was nowhere in sight. We hastened towards the chamber where Lonara had been kept. She wasn't there. 


	5. Wrath Of A Woman Scorned

The Wrath of a Woman Scorned  
  
I screamed my rage to the sky. Where was my baby? Clemen would pay, that much I knew. I would hunt him down. I would drive him before me to the fiery pits of Fire's Abode, and there he would stay forevermore, in everlasting torment. Surely Elaina's patron goddess would allow me to punish him in her private Hell.  
Soon, however, I calmed down. Before the hour was past I was walking with Nechtè and Elaina, only occasionally growling that I would cut off his ears and put out his eyes. A plague on him and his decedents! Nechtè contented himself with nodding vigorously and stumbling forward in exhaustion. Elaina was pondering things.  
Why, if Clemen is Nechtè's brother, then he is also Lonara's uncle, she thought. And I am her aunt. What does that make Buttercup? Clemen's sister-in-law? I don't think that either of them would like that. She shifted her pack. I wonder if Butter is really going to kill him. Actually, it's quite possible. That sure sounds like the Buttercup I knew.  
The three walked on, soon leaving the forest behind. Clemen had left a clear trail; muddy footprints, broken twigs, and little pieces of bread that they found by a small bubbling brook. The fool was confident that there would be no pursuit. And he knew that under the cover of Dark, which was fast approaching, he would be in his master's element, and not even the Queen of the Heavens could stop him.  
The trail became well-kept fields of wheat and corn. Here they stopped for a quick snack and then kept moving. In being so hasty they failed to notice that another set of footprints branched off from the first ones. They kept trekking on, moving farther and farther from the place where a thin man lurked in the bushes with a sleeping child. Sooner or later they were sure to find that the footprints stopped. Then they would go back, realizing their mistake. But would the time they took to retrace their steps seal the doom of the little girl? That remains to be seen.  
~~~  
"Stop," I commanded. "We haven't seen the footprints for miles. Something's wrong."  
"Well," Nechtè commented tartly, "at least that is obvious. I was the one who pointed that out to you half an hour ago."  
Glowering, I merely said, "Let's retrace our steps."  
No word was spoken among the depressed kinsmen; all their energy was taken up in walking. Soon they arrived at the place they had lost the footprints. They simply ended, faded into nothing. They began to search the growth on the sides of the trail. Soon they saw telltale crushed twigs and trampled grass and knew they had found the trail of the villain.  
~~~  
Clemen strolled leisurely down the path, the little girl trotting alongside. Clemen had never had much respect for his schoolmates' intelligence, and he was sure the escaped prisoners would take hours to realize that the trail his magic had made was fake. Anyways, he had traveled for hours already, and he was in truth far ahead of his enemies.  
He glanced at the child and his lip curled derisively. The child was actually fighting him with her small knowledge of magic! But her power was untrained, for the most part, and she was forced to follow along behind him obediently with only an occasional prayer to the Queen.  
Clemen knew what to do to the child. He had no further use for her; indeed, she was a danger to him alive. He would use her to his own ends: the blood of a young girl was an essential element for many war spells that could be bound to a physical object. The ingredient, however, was very expensive. Most places that sold the blood came by it with the owners permission and therefore took very little of it, while the others took it from unwilling donors and charged high for the risk from the law. Strangely enough, Clemen didn't want to kill the girl: he even felt bad about it. She hadn't done anything to him, after all; and wasn't she his own niece?  
"Here," the man grunted, flinging himself down on a rock. "Sit down."  
The child sat on the dirt ground, glaring at him. "You're a bad man!" she whined. She looked around, longing for a route of escape but finding none. Failing that, she began to pray to the Queen.  
Clemen sighed. Maybe she could be sold as a slave? He hoped halfheartedly. That would certainly make his revenge complete, but not even the cruelest Crananian would buy such a young child. He knew now that he could not kill her. She was young and innocent. He would kill his half- brother or his stepmother, maybe both, but he was too weak to kill this child. He was disgusted with himself, but his conscience left him no alternative.  
Sure now of his path, the unhappy man grabbed his niece's arm and began to retrace his steps. 


	6. The Death Of A Brother

The Death of a Brother  
  
The three of us walked furiously on. I am sure that I looked hideous; rage and hate had contorted my face in such a fearsome look that all the peasants we encountered along the way shied away from us. One man even hid in the waving fields of corn as we passed by. I didn't care if people the world over avoided my for the rest of my life: I would not rest until I had my daughter back!  
Before long we saw the footprints again. For an hour and more we followed the trail, growing more and more frantic with the passing of time. Then, just as the light faded from the sky and we began to despair of catching up to even the slow-moving, unathletic Clemen and our struggling child while under the cover of Dark, we saw them moving along the path, moving quickly now that Lonara knew that they would return to her parents.  
I did not think: there was, in my mind, no time to think. The barbarian had my child by the arm and was pulling her forward. Oh, I suppose it penetrated my frozen brain that it was odd that they moved in our direction, but I was not thinking rationally. I pulled fire from the nether regions of the earth and SHOVED them towards Clemen, even in my insane wrath remembering to channel them away from my daughter.  
I am sure that the spell I have just described fascinates all you mages now reading this book, as I used no words to fry my brother-in-law and I was too exhausted to use my own power. What I did was reach out to my Goddess and take her divine strength. I doubt you know how to do this, or even how it is done. Don't worry, I was the one who discovered that it was possible, and it is only possible with your own patron, and then only if they are willing. However, it was really a very simple process, and fascinating to watch. I considered sucking out all but a small portion of the unbearable heat that was now filling his skin so that I could watch him writhe in agony, but the horrified expression on my daughter's face convinced me to make his end swift.  
When finally he was dead I ran to my little one and gathered her up in my arms. She cried then, apologizing for the trouble she had caused and promising that she would be good forever if I would take her home again. I shushed her and told her repeatedly that it was my fault, I hadn't watched her diligently enough, but she admitted shamefacedly that she had used a spell to make me forget about her. Nechtè tried then to make her feel better, telling her that she had been good and had listened to her magic lessons well, but Lonara had absorbed the full impact of the trouble her wandering had caused, and she was old enough (barely) to know how seriously she had erred.  
Elaina had very wisely kept back during this reunion, but now I pushed her forward. I told Lonara firmly that it was a good thing that she had been captured because otherwise Elaina might not have gotten out. Now we didn't have to hide anymore, the bad man was dead and we were to go back to Cranan with the aunt she finally could meet.  
"You didn't really have to do that, Mommy," the little girl said tearfully. "He might have been bad, but he was coming to give me back to you. Maybe he wasn't really that bad."  
I exchanged looks with my husband and sister. Now we would never know what Clemen had intended, coming back with our daughter when we had thought he would kill her. Somehow I wasn't too unhappy about it, though. 


	7. Return

Part II  
Return  
  
Far away, in a small graveyard in southern Cranan, a body stirred. The body was young and female, dead for nearly thirty years, but some strange magic had made it almost as fresh as when still alive. Still, there were rotten places on the body which the magic had not been able to fix. The long-dead body was female, but the spirit that inhabited it was not. The box burst open and dirt sprayed all over as the slim body heaved at it with inhuman strength, escaping the tomb where it had lain at rest for so many years.  
The spirit had chosen this body for many reasons. The knowledge that the woman, Catherine, had accumulated in her short lifetime would be useful, but in truth he knew most of what she did about how to survive in Cranan with both servants and nobility. The body would certainly scare the man and woman he planned to kill, but even that was secondary. The real reason he had taken this body was because in a past lifetime she had been his mother.  
Clemen knew that he had never known his mother and had no reason to feel close to her, but he did, closer even than to the father that he had both loved and despised. Obviously it was his father's fault that she had died, and he must be punished.his wife too. He felt that she had guided him from beyond the grave, calming him and telling him to avenge her on his father and his father's wife when he was older and stronger. He had held his temper and waited. And almost he had waited too long. He had died, but that didn't matter. He had inhabited his mother's body and now could kill his father, and that was all that mattered. Once his father was dead, his life, or rather half-life, would be complete. Then he could rest knowing that the purpose he had had throughout his life, from the day his father had asked Clemen to pretend that he was not really his father's son, had been completed, and he could leave the world that had treated him so unkindly and in which he had found no pleasure. Then, at last, he might be happy.  
But even this was not the extent of his motives. Even his vow to slay the man who had robbed him of his entire life was not all that made him want to kill his father. Clemen knew that he had not been quite strong enough to work the spells that had brought him to this new body. A power far away, many hundred miles distant, had given him the strength to return at least partially to the land of the living. Clemen was not sure exactly what this power wanted. All he understood was that his new mistress wanted him to perform a task for her, and once this task was finished he could leave his mother's body and reside evermore in the Dark's heaven. All that stood in his way, he knew, was his father, because only his father could recognize this body.  
~~~  
Baron Robert and his wife Amelia entered their house arm in arm, laughing merrily. They had just returned from watching a play at the palace, and the evening had been wonderful. The Queen had assured them that their son had been located, and the boy that they had not seen for ten years would be returning within the week. Also, they were grandparents! That nice girl from school-Buttercup, that was her name-that Nechtè had always been sighing over had finally married him, and they had a sweet, magically talented little granddaughter.  
The two walked in. However, in their joy over the upcoming reunion with their son they failed to notice the muddy footprints that covered the carpet. An obedient butler trailed after the happy couple of nobles with a torch.  
The married pair entered their little house in the city, sure that they would find a roaring fire and some hot tea awaiting them, for their maid, Celia, was very adept at realizing what people want to come home to. But as they had been expecting comfort they were sadly disappointed, for the house was stone cold and Celia was nowhere to be seen. They entered the kitchen, looking for Celia.  
Baroness Amelia frowned. She knew that the maid that had served under them for years was no slacker, but she had somehow managed to break several dishes and scatter little bits of glass all over the place and had not cleaned them up before her employers returned. Then she caught sight of something on the floor that made the composed, even-tempered woman scream in horror for her husband.  
Baron Robert ran to his stricken wife. "What is it, Amy? What's wrong?"  
"Blood!" the woman babbled in terror. "All over! And Celia, where is Celia?"  
The baron blanched. "Blood? Are you sure?" He squinted at the floor. "Oh dear."  
They rushed into the maid's quarters. Celia was there, lying on the bed. The baroness rushed towards her and screamed. She was dead, her neck covered in blood.  
"Robert," said a high voice from the closet. "I've been waiting for you." The dead woman stepped forward. A shining knife was clutched tightly in its unnatural hand.  
"Catherine? What.what." Robert sputtered in fear and anger. He had believed that his mistake was forever behind him. Now here was Clemen's mother to torment him from the nether world.  
The figure advanced, knife in hand. The baron yelled for help, backing into the wall. The butler ran in when he heard the yell, gasping when he saw his employer being threatened by a corpse and his friend Celia lying cold and dead.  
"I warn you, madam," the butler quavered, holding the torch before him like a sword as he placed himself between his lord and the rotten woman, "I am armed. Please put the knife down."  
Clemen/Kate shuffled forward with the knife still clutched in those dainty fingers. They reached the bewildered butler and shoved him aside, continuing on towards the stricken baron. The baroness and butler seemed to be in a daze, for they made no move to stop the apparition. Clemen stopped before his father and a knife flashed.  
The baron screamed as sharp metal plunged into his side, and with that harsh sound the spell of the zombie was partially broken. The baroness seized the torch from the frozen servant and thrust the flame at the specter.  
The zombie groaned, a horrid, unearthly noise, as the rotten flesh was seared by the heat. "You have not finished me!" it howled. "I shall return!" And it rushed off, running away from the only thing which it feared: fire.  
~~~  
"Quite clearly," Queen Anala the Third reassured the frightened baroness, "it was some old friend of your husband's who dislikes nobles. They must have attacked you two because your husband was once a merchant and seemed to be 'siding with the enemy.' But as you are both fine I am sure that this assassination attempt is nothing to worry over."  
"But it was her!" Amelia wept. "It was Catherine! It was that awful woman who my husband had a child by! But she died in childbirth! I know it for a fact!"  
"Well," replied the unshakable monarch, "maybe the angry commoners found a woman who just looks like this Catherine. I'm sure it is nothing to be frightened by. I will have some of the Queen's Guard look into it. Your husband will make a full recovery, and while he is unwell you will be more than welcome in the palace. Now.how about a game of cards?"  
"Yes, Your Majesty."  
"Isn't the whole situation with the Yemenese odd, though? They used to be so friendly, before that Queen Amber married their King Paber."  
The baroness was not much reassured after that meeting, but the horrors of the night before were hard to recall in the bright sunshine and fragrant air of the Queen's garden.  
~~~  
Baron Robert lay in his bed, white as a sheet. He had not yet recovered from the shock of the night before. He couldn't speak rationally, only babble, "I'm sorry, Amy. I didn't love her. I'm sorry."  
~~~  
Clemen nursed his burnt flesh tenderly, wishing his mother's body wasn't so vulnerable to flame. He knew that his father's wife knew now that he could be harmed by fire, and he wasn't sure that she wouldn't know how to use this knowledge to destroy him.  
The zombie began to make plans for sneaking into the palace. He knew that his father was lying in the palace hospital. Getting into the palace was as easy as pie: it had not been so long that he had forgotten the hidden tunnels that led to the palace mews. But how could he reach the hospital ward in which his father resided? It was surrounded by guards to protect him from the 'angry commoners.'  
Guards could be bribed, he knew, but he lacked the heavy purse that had been left by his tortured body in the fields where he had met his death. Guards could be conked on the head and so kept from interfering, but there were too many for that to be practical. He had to see if his mistress in Lacar would lend a hand.  
First, however, he had to attempt to make himself temporarily invisible. He had no girls' blood to use for the spell, but he hoped to be able to cast the incantation anyway. He knew that often those mage's spirits which came back to the world of the living to right the wrongs done to them could still receive magic from their patron deity.  
He chanted the necessary verses while holding his breath, and was delighted to find that the spell worked perfectly and he quickly became invisible. Dark smiled at him, as Dark was currently at war with his siblings and would act against their interests as much as he could. He was ready to face his treacherous father. He held in his breath and set out on the mission his mistress had set for him.  
He passed his hand through the wall first. His sorcerer's mind absently noted that his mistress could send her spells to aid him even from as far away as Maram. Such an impressive feat would have been a worthy topic at the university, but here it was only to be remembered so that he could thank her.  
The invisible creature took a deep breath and disappeared into the walls of the hospital. 


	8. Plots

Plots  
  
The well-dressed Duchess of Alerna turned sharply and bowed before the king and queen of Yemen.  
"Your Majesties," she began, "I am pleased to report success. Our spies have been placed in both of the allied countries, and they are surely close enough to the generals to gather all necessary information. Also, a dead man has been resurrected by our mages and will doubtless cause great confusion as he carries out his revenge. Cranan and Drokal will be destroyed before our mighty armies."  
"A dead man?" the queen queried, digging her nails into her husband's arm. "Our mages have dared to raise a dead man?" The king winced as the blood-colored nails of his beloved wife opened small red holes in his flesh.  
Duchess Marie watched nervously as the queen's eyes caught fire, obviously preparing for one of her famous, deadly outbursts. "Yes, Your Majesty, we have raised a dead man. Or at least, we have raised his spirit: I am led to believe that the body he chose was female."  
"You had no business." The queen screeched in fury as her husband laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.  
"Now, darling, I'm sure they meant no harm, and as long as you're sure that this war is absolutely necessary." the king's courage failed him at the look his wife gave him and he said, "yes, dear. I'll be quiet."  
"I'm afraid," the queen grabbed her husband's arm and began to tug him towards his study, "that the king isn't feeling well and has said some things that he didn't really mean. You needn't mention this to the court." She flipped a golden coin to the offended Duchess and hurried out of the room.  
Once alone in the luxurious study in which most of the business of the kingdom was conducted, the royal couple began to bicker.  
"You are NOT supposed to let on that you are a weak ruler!" the Queen shrieked. "No one is supposed to know who runs the country!"  
"Why not? Why don't you want to tell you is the power behind the throne? Modesty, or fear that my ambitious younger brother would be asked to take over? And please remind me, just why are we going to war with the Crananians and the Drokalians?"  
"You are pathetic!" screamed Queen Amber. "You know that they have killed many of our loyal subjects!"  
"Don't be ridiculous! The 'loyal subjects' they have been killing are mostly the same ones who assasinated my father. I have a good mind to abdicate and let someone else get our country into trouble. At least somebody else would have a better excuse for going to war!"  
The queen frowned. Paber was being difficult and strong-willed again. She would have to do something about him before he carried out his threats. "Don't be so hasty, dear," she told the furious king. "You really need to consider what you are saying."  
She muttered a few words under her breath and her husband's face went blank. There, she thought, that should convince him to go along with her. 


End file.
